The island waits in that shivering space between hoof-prints and golden metal. It has no eyes (not yet) but it watches, curled around the relic like a worried, fretful mother. Each horse that crosses the sand towards it brings another shiver of the earth, of magic, of air held like a death knell breath. It's quaking by the time the last horse crosses that hoof-print line in the sand.
And like any fretful mother it becomes feral.
It starts with that quaking. The sand sings a eulogy against itself and if the too eager horses listened closely that funeral song would sound like a heartbeat (like holly red berries on bones of ivy). The beat of it rises to a fever pitch. All that singing sand turns molten. Each palm tree, each branch of thicket, each root pulls itself from the island floor and starts to move together. At first it might look like the trees, the roots, the ticket are all moving towards that relic too. It's almost easy to wonder if they want that gift from a god too. (what favor would a tree ask?)
Wondering is easy--until the trees start to form themselves into bones. Each bit of earth is heedless of the horses in the way as they meld together. At first it looks like a bridge of wood-bones making another bridge around the relic. At first it seems an easy thing to run between the arches and grab that shining god-gift. But then the molten sand pulls itself from the earth and drapes over those bones like a selkie skin returned. All the shed leaves of the trees and thicket lay themselves upon that sand-skin as green frond scales.
The transformation takes no longer than several beats of that throbbing sand. But oh, even though it was quick, it is monstrous! From head to tail stretched out she seems longer than the island itself.
The mother island, now so unlike an island with nothing more dangerous than broken time, twists and turns like she's ready to swallow up each horse foolish (or brave, or bold, or reckless) enough to run towards her relic. Her body twines itself around the golden chalice because it is her world and she is nothing more than the snake that wants to devour it.
When she swings her head towards the horses waiting before all this wrath of her, it's with two eyes that are nothing more than swirling bits of salt-water and brine trapped in the holes of her face. She flicks a tongue of seaweed at the horses, a warning. Or maybe all she's saying is come closer with another inhale. With another lick of seaweed she tastes all their wanting on the wind that has just started to bellow.
How deep is your need? Her eyes blaze and it's impossible to think that anything is deeper than the black-water of her gaze.
Your character has a choice.
This post is the first in the battle for the relic. The island around the relic has turned itself into a great and mighty beast. She is angry and is preparing to attack all the horses who have decided to go for the relic. Anyone who posted in the last round may continue onto this one.
Each round is decision-based. We will give you a set of options for your character to choose from ICly; at the end of the round, a dice roll will be made to determine which options proceed. Even numbers proceed; odd numbers do not. If your character proceeds you may continue to reply; if your character does not proceed, you may not reply to any of the next rounds.
If your character has an unused mollusk shell, golden leaf, or iridescent feather from a previous round, you may use that to automatically proceed once even if your character rolled otherwise. To use this reward, wait until the dice are rolled: if your character does not proceed but you would like to, reply to the next round and add at the bottom of the post which reward you are redeeming.
For this round:
Your character may choose from the following options, although you may each write them out differently the core choice must be one of the options below. The fourth option will not be considered for a progression roll, it is simply another chance to leave (there will be no others going forward).
Option One: Face the great mother snake down head on and attack her directly
Option Two: Attempt to aim for the middle of the snake as it might be distracted
Option Three: Try to run around and avoid the snake while the other horses attack it
Option Four: Turn and flee, it's not worth it
Please clearly mark your character's decision at the bottom of your post.
Example: @isra has chosen option two.
Each reply to this thread gives you +1 post in an SWP.
All replies after September 14th, 2019 will not be considered for a progression roll.
To tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk.
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
Camillia was no fighter, not in this world at least. With her magics sucked away from her, she had almost no means to defend herself. That didn't make her cower though, hiding behind others as the great beast rose up in front of them. This was a test for her, proof that she could withstand what this new world threw at her. Eyeing the beast, her heart pumped more quickly and her breath grew shallow. It was terrifying to look into its eyes and witness the seething anger within. But with a grit of her teeth and a stomp to the ground beneath her, she steadied her resolve.
She would not attack from the front, no, that would be too easy for the snake. But was a side attack the proper action? At least from the front it would only be able to bite one or maybe two horses. As opposed to on the side where its tail might knock a multitude of horses to the ground. She had to guess what the others would do, whether enough would attack in the front to even out her boldness or should she disregard them, attacking from the side and hope for the snake to be too distracted.
Her mind evening out, she charged forward, seemingly straight into the creature's jaws. Nearing, she reared and kicked out at the snake, hoping the threat of her hooves would be enough to avoid a bite to the belly or head. She was betting on the others, more powerful than her, to take down this snake. For now she was a distraction at best, at worst, a meal.
@Camillia picks option one.
09-06-2019, 01:21 PM
Played by
Dyzzie [PM] Posts: 214 — Threads: 26 Signos: 260
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
There is a growing unease with in the group of horses that have come upon the Relic's Meadow. Bel herself stood just outside the trees, her eyes dancing from face to face, hardly sparing a second thought to the Relic (at least for now). The subtle shifting of hooves. The nervous twitching of ears, tails, pelts. Ruffling of feathers. Tossing of Manes. Unease ran rampant from individual to individual . . . and Bel herself seemed to freeze as she felt something was coming. Her eyes peered down to the sand below her hooves as she felt it begin to shake, quiver, quake. Was it fear? Anger? Distress? Soon it wasn't just the sand dancing, and the aquatic creature felt her body, her being seem to quiver in time to the land's shaking - waiting for what to come next.
Never in her wildest dreams did she think it would be this. The trees and brush all around her suddenly lifted up, and with that motion did Bel's hooves quick up and draw her closer to the crowd of gathered horses, alarmed when the earth had ripped up from right next to her. She stared with a mixture of horror and awe as the trees, the thicket swirled around in a dance in tune to the molten sand. However the dance didn't stay for long before everything began to form together, to twist and corrupt. Soon the timber skeleton was covered in molten sand muscle, and leafy skin, wrapping and morphing into a snake. And suddenly, Bel was feeling less than sure about her arrival here. Would this? Is this? What it all a mistake?
She stood still as the snake turned to stare them all down, and her eyes met those liquid orbs of the snake, staring the salt-water spheres down, wondering what would come from this. A seaweed tongue hissed out, tasting the air, and seemed to prep for an attack, a strike, and Bel was frozen. Fight? Fight the Island? Would they really have to fight the island? No. No. No. No. No. Not the island, not the island! Not after she'd spent so much time on it, learning to follow it's paths as they came to her, learning it's wise personality, making friends with it's odd magic. Not after all of this. Not after . . . . . But the others seemed to be gearing up. They were going to attack this creature only defending . . . .
There was a pause in that thought. Defending, that's all the island was doing. Defending an item it had been charged with the protection of it. Was this relic really worth so much to destroy the protector with nothing more than the protection and care of the prize. One was already moving in action, and before long others were joining, and still Bel stood frozen, uncertain, hesitating. What should she do, what should she do. Should she help? Should she turn and run . . . . No . . . she won't turn back. She wouldn't abandon the others to their own death Never again would she turn her back for another to perish She would stand tall, she would stand ready . . . she would . . . . . could she bring herself to attack the Island . . . .
This led to her decision. She'd stay, but she needed to buy time, to find another response, another way to settle the island, to escape what could be a massacre between the Island-Created snake, and the others that prepared to battle it, and so she turned to run around the snake, the horses, buying herself some time to avoid the snake the others attacking it. She'd help try and contain injuries, make sure any that tried to turn tail and escape this madness made it out safe, but she couldn't bring herself to attack the island, she wasn't made for attacking, but rather defending; after all. And on land; she couldn't trust her footing enough to be of help even if she could. So she stood back, she watched, she supported, but she would not attack the snake. She would not attack that which only attempted to defend and protect.
Thoughts Speech
@Random Events Notes: Bel chooses Option Three. She can't bring herself to attack the snake . . . . I had expected her to eventually take up a different option >.< But darn it. She took time to grow comfortable with the island, and now it's all breaking her poor little aquatic heart.
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
As Morrighan stays there, it seems the relic is calling everyone from Novus to this very spot. More and more appear and many she recognizes from her own Court. In fact, the majority of them are from Denocte and she squints her eyes. If this goes south, her Court is gravely in danger. Isra's man, Eik, is even here which she finds strange considering they're expecting.
It's almost claustrophobic as everyone gathers and some even dare to inch closer to the relic. She shakes her head as she knows this is some sort of trap. It takes a moment before anything happens, but the mare ends up being right. All around them, the earth shifts and groans to form a huge beast made out of the trees and the very island ground itself. It reminds her of a large snake as it licks the air with its seaweed tongue.
Even though she initially didn't want to have to get into any of the relic's traps, she can feel the adrenaline rushing through her body. The urge for battle is strong and hard for her to ignore. Plus, what better chance would she have to show off her magic that she's started to get better control of?
Morrighan finds a fallen branch and picks it up with her teeth. She focuses all her energy on igniting the branch until a small fire appears on the other end. The mare from earlier charges the beast head on, so Morr does her best to aim at the beast instead. With as much force as she can manage, she throws the branch at the beast in hopes that the fire or the branch itself will hit it in the eyes. Maybe then it could become blinded long enough to inflict real damage.
I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream // I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam // And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem // But if I know you, I know what you'll do // You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream
As more gather, it feels like the relic has created quite the show. Lucinda still does not recognize any of the faces until she notices red horns and roses. Her brow raises when she realizes it's Vendetta, although it's not all that surprising that the woman is here. But now, it surely is a real competition.
Nothing happens for a few more moments, but then the island comes alive. The trees twist and morph in an unnatural way to form bones, then the ground beneath latches on to form skin. A beast emerges from the chaos and looks at them all with a crazed hunger in its eyes. As she had figured, getting the relic isn't going to be an easy task, but then nothing truly fun ever is.
There are two who face the beast head on, but Lucinda knows better. While it's distracted, she instead aims for the middle of the snake with her staff. She waves it in the air before striking down in an attempt to pierce the snake's skin. Perhaps it will hurt enough where it might jerk to the side and she can slip in and grab the relic while no one's looking. It's a lovely thought, but she still keeps herself ready in case the snake tries to strike back. While she didn't care as much for the relic before, she feels compelled to win now, even if it's just for the sake of winning.
Katniss offers Noctiilucent a soft smile as the mare comes to stand beside her. She is happy that there are so many familiar faces gathered. It increases their luck at keeping the relic from any other unworthy opponents. Isra will know what to do with the relic. It will be Isra’s decision what happens when she brings the relic home. But until that time, Katniss is determined to fight to the death to ensure the safety of her court.
She hears the words of her herd mate and she sigh softly. “No, I have not seen her. Perhaps she will come. Perhaps.” Although, if Isra has not made her appearance yet, then she is more than likely not coming. If that is the case, then there is even more weight on the Champion of Battle’s shoulders. She would have to bring home the win. She had to.
It was her second words that had her looking over at the mare with a knowing glance. Noctii was right. There was no way this relic would simply be given away. There would be something they must do, something they must fight. “Perhaps it is a trap.” But even knowing this, Katniss knows that she must make her move.
As the others lurch forward, so does she. She allows her large draft hooves to pound the surface of the sand, drawing her closer to the relic with each step she took. But then the ground is shaking and she is slowing. Trees and sand transform themselves into a large snake, something far larger than she has ever seen before.
At first she halts, unsure of what she should do. That beast, if venomous, could easily kill them all. If not venomous, one wrap and squeeze in her giant coils of body would leave each of them dead and broken, unrecognizable as equine. It takes Katniss a moment to think, but she knows she must help to protect the other Night Court citizens that are here doing the exact same thing that she is doing. And if this snake is to take her life, she hopes it will not be in vain. And so with a deep breath, she prepares her magic, hardening the bones of her body and of her teeth. She has to try and put on some protective armor if she cannot have her custom armor here and ready.
Katniss chooses Option One. @Noctiilucent for the mention
Boom-boom-boom goes the heartbeat of the island, and Apolonia’s step falters—
Boom-boom-boom and the earth is moving around her like it knows how to fight, like it’s going to start talking with a mouth made of bones; the soft limbs of the trees knit together and the sand rises up to meet the lattice and by the time the leaves start to gather into scales O has stopped walking completely.
Her eyes grow wide. Shock blossoms in her chest. Her body goes bright-numb for a second, frozen in place as the saltwater eyes flow down the thing’s cheeks in a torrent, as its seaweed tongue lashes out like a whip. Its head comes down too fast, too fast—
O lunges to the side. A new torrent of sand comes flooding up, and through its golden current she can still see the Relic of Tempus standing there like so many biblical temptations. Adrenaline courses like fire through her nerves; it’s almost painful to stand still. But she has to think, she has to plan. This is no time to falter on excitement.
One shot, one kill, one chance. If she loses it now it’ll never come back to her.
A stranger surges forward, then another one. She can see (blurrily) that their blows connect with the snake-thing, but there is no sound of contact, no blood nor breaking bones; it’s as if their hooves pass right through the sand, scattering the grains without breaking the form. A unique foe, then. Formidable because she is not tied down, like they are, to the laws of the living.
With a movement like dancing O tosses her axe, twirling, twirling, twirling in so many easy spirals toward the belly of the snake-god as its head comes down in divine intervention.
Rhone had always been a lover more so than a fighter. And yet, when the time came, Rhone would always be the first to step up and protect those that he held so dear. When he had gone searching for the relic, never had he imagined what this path would truly lead him down. He had thought it to be more of a scholarly journey, not an actual hunt for an actual relic. So naturally, when he stands before the crowd with the relic sitting there staring him in the face, he is pleasantly surprised.
He is quiet, contemplative until the ground beneath him begins to shake. He knows that he has the ability to make the ground quake, but this was not of his doing. He watches in bewilderment as the trees begin to move forward, turning into bones. The sand comes up from where they sand, cloaking the bones in a layer of skin and scales.
There is a part of Rhone that makes his heart ache knowing that the trees and sand are being pulled into a large snake. It hurts to know the earth he works so hard to grow is being misused and turned into something deadly. It angers him and for a moment, he is angry at the gods. He is angry that such beauty has to be turned into such ugliness.
But as each equine heads towards the snake, he has to weigh his options. He is a small stallion with very little brute force. Compared to these draft warriors, he doesn’t stand a chance. But he is also no coward. He cannot just run away or let others fight his battles for him. And so, he does the only thing he can do and attack the center of the serpent, hoping that it is distracted enough. He taps into his magic, growing large vines to encase the middle of the snake and render it motionless (or so he hopes). He knows that his magic is week and she will probably break free, but he has to try. He has to.
This was horseshit. The hunt for the relic was not supposed to be so popular. She was supposed to sneak in, sneak out, and no one would know any better. From the looks of it, there were far too many people who also had the same idea as she had. Sighing, Sloane supposed that was just how it was meant to be. Looking around her, she noted that most were warriors, so at least they could do her fighting for her. She was a smart girl and she knew that if given the opportunity, she would be able to out-smart almost anywhere here.
But something broke her concentration. Suddenly, the sand and trees and leaves all welded together to make a large serpent. FUCK THAT SHIT. Sloane hated snakes. They would hide in the shadows and strike when no one was watching. Then, if they weren’t venomous and killed you almost instantly, then they would coil you and squeeze the guts straight out into the sand. Sloane was not intent on dying today - neither by venom nor being disemboweled.
Watching the others as they ran towards the snake, Sloane stepped back and watched. Some went for the head (a dangerous risk if you asked her), some went to the middle of the snake (again, too many ways to get injured there too), some ran around screaming and doing nothing productive (was that a good option?), while others fled (cowards!).
Sloane was silent as she watched. She had to calculate each move. Taping into her limited magic, she tried to blend herself into the remaining trees, her magic not strong enough to make her completely invisible, but enough that she wasn’t so blatantly obvious. She eased herself around the snake, watching the other fools attack it directly while she contemplated a much better plan.
Sticks, stones, fire, sword, and ultimately blood.
These are the things that are the beginning of the end, but whose? Emersyn is not the first to act upon the snake, but neither she the last. She is mystified by the island, by the great serpentress it has become. Emersyn cannot discern whether she is the foe or if it is the snake. The soldier must decide how deep her need is for the Relic which lies in the sand. How much does Emersyn need the Relic?
Truthfully, none of them need it. Not right now. There are so many others in this new world that need it. Yet, none of those horses can be here. They are busy suffering a cruel immortality unlike the everlasting life of the Gods, Solterra's new statuary collection is quite impressive. Several of her group descend onto the great beast, she is reminded of a hard won battle in her past. Each one of these horses are soldiers like her. The sweltering sun is replaced by a wet, cold day. She can hear men shouting to each other on the field, her men, and this is what is left of them, of those who can still stand to fight. Some of them shout at Emersyn to get out of the way, to snap out of it. But all Emersyn can do is slow the scene down in her head and rearrange the pieces until it makes sense.
As it unfolds around her, frame for frame, the woman steps out of herself and plays with the idea that she will dart those yawning lips, avoid being tasted by the forked tongue, and be quick to put her hooves through one of those large, all-seeing eyes (eyes which look too long at her, eyes that deteriorate her vision of battle and bring her home - home to here). Now.
When she does so, she stares into the eyes of the snake herself and sees her own reflection in it. Every muscle gathers its energy, they swell with adrenaline as blood spins faster and faster in her veins, her heart beats steady - it has to - how else will she survive this? If she does not survive this, then she must die in a very honorable and dignified death. Hold steady, Emersyn tells herself. She'll strike for the eyes if the serpent surges forward, the soldier has visualized her tactful plan - if she can avoid the bite (a bite wider than the horizon). Emersyn's eyes may be trained on the snake, but in her own reflection, the relic glitters like a promise, and a distraction.
A forelimb tenses in the sand, and for a moment, Emersyn becomes the mongoose.
@Emersyn has chosen option one She will strike the closest eye if the snake strikes first.
09-10-2019, 10:30 PM - This post was last modified: 09-10-2019, 10:34 PM by Emersyn
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